


love and trust are not always easy to make

by polly_perks



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Met on Tinder, College, Flirting, Getting Together, M/M, Texting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-19 18:20:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9454223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polly_perks/pseuds/polly_perks
Summary: Phichit meets the man of his dreams in the comfort of his own dorm, still sweaty from skating practice but waiting in line for dinner at the dining hall. He's got his phone in one hand and his backpack slung over the opposite shoulder as he waits for his turn to choose between crunchy-looking pasta and meatballs with not enough sauce.(or: AU where Phichit and Yuuri go to different schools in Detroit, but match on Tinder)





	1. swipe right

**Author's Note:**

> title comes from "new soul" by yael naim 
> 
> i love tinder for what it could be but hate it for what it is

Phichit meets the man of his dreams in the comfort of his own dorm, still sweaty from skating practice but waiting in line for dinner at the dining hall. He's got his phone in one hand and his backpack slung over the opposite shoulder as he waits for his turn to choose between crunchy-looking pasta and meatballs with not enough sauce.

He’s swiping aimlessly through Tinder as he tends to when he’s doing something else that doesn’t require his full attention. He’d mostly made the profile on the urging of a friend who insisted that he’d “be great at it” (whatever that was supposed to mean). If it meant “awkward small talk and the occasional invite to a threesome by a straight couple,” then he supposed he was doing fantastic.

He flips through a few people: a girl with green hair and a septum piercing, a guy who looks like he goes to the gym way more often than he should be able to as an engineering student, and three people who hastily correct their age at the bottom of their profile because they’re technically too young to use the app.

He pauses on the next one.

**Yuuri, 21.**

He’s a figure skater. The first picture is of the man in a black sports jacket in the middle of a jump, and when Phichit taps on his profile he sees that it’s the only picture. He also sees his description, which simply reads,

“If you’re not Viktor Nikiforov swipe left”

Phichit swipes right, because he thinks the profile is hilarious and is kind of curious about this mysterious figure skater.

To his surprise, his phone immediately notifies him that they’ve matched.

It’s his turn, so he gets his tray and goes to check out. Once he’s settled at a table he opens his phone again and sends a message

_I’m not Viktor Nikiforov but you swiped right on me, does that mean I still have a chance?_

Phichit rests his phone on the table face-up as he eats, but he doesn’t get any response. He doesn’t expect the man to answer immediately but is surprised to find how anxious he is. He’s never been so invested in a Tinder stranger before.

His phone is glued to his hand all the way up to his room, and he almost brings it into the bathroom with him before realizing that the steam from the shower would probably wreck it. He _does_ check it as soon as he gets out, though, fingers still a little damp, but there’s nothing yet.

He goes to bed telling himself it’s very possible that Yuuri deleted the app and won’t even see his message, which makes him almost nervous. Luckily, he wakes up with three Tinder notifications.

_Oh my god_

_I’m so embarrassed_

_My friend dared me to make this profile while I was drunk and I never deleted it._

This only makes Yuuri even more fascinating and mysterious. Although…

 _Why would you delete it?_ Phichit asks. _Are you seeing someone?_

A little forward, maybe, but Phichit is curious about this figure skating stranger whose only standards seem to be “Viktor Nikiforov.”

He keeps his phone in his pocket on vibrate all day, but all he gets are texts from a few classmates and an email from his mother, which he responds to immediately. He leaves it on the bench during skate practice and tries to make full use of the little rink time he has.

He’s been working on his triple flip lately, always either too low to the ice or short a rotation to land it properly. One of the other skaters stops to watch and glides over while he’s taking a rest.

“Phichit, right?” he asks. He nods and doesn’t bother correcting the pronunciation; it’s as close as he’d been able to get from Americans.

“If you’re working your triple Lutz you should probably ask Coach for tips. Dan twisted his ankle last week ‘cause he wasn’t doing them right.”

“I was doing a flip,” Phichit corrects, and luckily the guy just nods in a ‘point taken’ sort of way. “Also, I think Coach is busy enough without me bothering her. I’ll stop if I think I’m about to hurt myself.”

“All right,” the guy skates off, giving Phichit a slightly wider berth than he had earlier. He hadn’t said the _real_ reason he was hesitant to ask Coach for advice, which was that she would probably rope him into helping her instruct some of the less experienced skaters if he made her too aware of his presence. He was too patient, and she’d told him multiple times before that he was the best skater on their rink.

He never minded helping, but there were times he just needed to work on himself.

Like now, when after four more tries he _still_ can’t land the triple flip, so he gives in and skates over to Coach to ask her to watch him try.

He falls, again, and looks at her expectantly.

“It was a good try,” she starts. “You need to get a little more rotation to make it a triple, though.”

 _I know that_ , Phichit thinks. “I’ve gotten enough rotations before, but I still fall. Do you have any advice for that?”

“Hmm?” she says distractedly; she’d been watching one of the first years attempt a Salchow for the first time. “Oh, you’ll get it with practice. All the best skaters always do.”

Phichit nods, skates away, and doesn’t go back over to her for the rest of practice. She tells him “good job” as he’s unlacing his skates, and he thanks her without saying more. He tries not to lose his patience with her, because he knows she’s a busy woman; the competitive skaters have to share the rink with the learners in the two-hour block between the times that the high school and college hockey teams have the rink booked.

Even though he’s heard the album playing through his headphones a hundred times before, it sounds slightly faster today. It must be him, though, because the last song still finishes just as he’s pushing the door to his building open.

Someone he knows catches him in the dining hall during dinner, so he doesn’t look at his phone until he’s in his room. He hadn’t realized that he had been waiting expectantly to be able to check it until he does.

 _Yuuri has sent you a new message!,_ his phone reads. The exclamation point certainly matches his own excitement.

_No, I’m not dating anyone right now. I just didn’t think I would use it much._

Phichit feels a rush of relief at reading Yuuri is available, although he reminds himself it doesn’t mean anything yet. They’ve barely started the awkward small talk phase.

_Why not? Are you not interested?_

He closes his phone and starts gathering his things for the shower, not expecting Yuuri to answer for a while, but his phone buzzes as he’s shaking out his towel.

_I guess it’s kind of interesting, but it also doesn’t seem very good for finding someone to date. It’s all based on looks._

Phichit thinks this is kind of rich coming from a guy who hasn’t even provided a view of his face, but doesn’t comment on it.

 _That’s true,_ he says, and then realizes if he leaves it at that they’ll never get anywhere. _I noticed you’re a figure skater too? Do you compete?_

Yuuri responds much faster this time. _Yes! I’m skating in some local competitions right now and I’m aiming for the Grand Prix Final this season. I saw in your description that you’re a skater as well. It’s one of the reasons I swiped right for you._

Not only is he a skater, Phichit thinks, he’s a professional. A competitor. He must skate at a different rink if Phichit’s never seen him and he wonders what it’s like. Phichit resolves to keep this conversation going until one of them musters up the courage to arrange a meetup.

 _That’s so cool!_ Phichit types. _I’m gonna skate in some of the Grand Prix qualifiers, but I don’t know if I’ll make it to the final yet._ He doesn’t mean to sound self-deprecating, just realistic; he knows that most skaters who make it to the Final have more than one triple in their wheelhouse.

 _I’m sure you can do it!_ Yuuri replies. Phichit smiles at his phone; Yuuri has never seen him skate, yet he still finds the sentiment sweet.

He re-reads Yuuri’s previous message, then types: _Also, “one of the reasons”? What was the other one? ;)_

He stares at the message a few moments, then deletes the emoji and sends it. Maybe he’s fishing, but he doesn’t want to be too obvious about it. Yuuri’s profile description may be hilarious, but Phichit kind of gets the sense that he’s shy.

 _Oh,_ says Yuuri’s next message.

Then, _Um._

And finally:

_You’re really cute._

Phichit closes his phone, hugs it to his chest, and grins. It’s a good start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow! my first attempt at a multichapter. i'm not sure how often i'll update because school is kicking my ass but i'll try my best
> 
> this says "au" but honestly? we have no idea how they met. they very well could have matched on tinder. the show only ever says that they're rinkmates. we just don't know


	2. one new match

Over the next few days, Phichit learns that Yuuri _is_ shy, as his initial impression had told him, but that he’s also pretty responsive to gentle flirting and even starts pushing back a little after they’d both shared some things about themselves. Yuuri’s messages always get faster and longer whenever they’re talking about topics he’s interested in, so Phichit tends to steer the conversation in those directions even when Yuuri asks him questions about himself.

These topics include: skating, his family, what the best kind of dog is (poodle by a landslide in Yuuri’s opinion, all dogs equally perfect in Phichit’s eyes), the few movies that he’s seen since coming to America, and Viktor Nikiforov.

The last one Phichit should have seen coming from a mile away, given the profile, but he’s still surprised at the intensity of Yuuri’s response when he brings him up one day.

 _So, why Viktor Nikiforov? That’s a pretty high standard._ Phichit asks on the way to class after breakfast. Tinder is the only app that he lets his phone use data for, now, so he’s able to keep in contact with Yuuri much more consistently.

 _Oh, you mean from my profile?_ Despite his apparent embarrassment, Yuuri still hadn’t changed his description. He hadn’t added a picture of his face, either, but Phichit doesn’t want to ask him about it. It’s kind of fun, getting to know Yuuri as a person before ever seeing his face, and he thinks it’ll be that much more special when they finally do meet in person.

(When, not if. Phichit has already decided. One of them just needs to bring it up.)

_My friends suggested that description because of how much I talk about him, I guess. I was drunk so I thought it was funny._

Phichit laughs out loud at that. _It’s pretty funny,_ he agrees. _Is he your favorite skater?_

 _Absolutely,_ Yuuri says. They’re not speaking in person, but Phichit can imagine the quiet intensity that would color that response. _And not just because he’s one of the only skaters in history that can land the quad flip. His programs are always so incredible and unique, I can’t believe he choreographs them all himself._

Phichit smiles at his phone a little. He has a minute before class so he leans on the wall outside the door to type one last message before going in. _Doesn’t he also hold a record for most gold medals in the Grand Prix or something?_

When he peeks into the lecture hall he can see that his professor is plugging her laptop into the projector so he knows it’s time to go. He puts his phone on silent and slides it into his backpack so he won’t be tempted to look at it; he’s already distractible enough in this class.

He pulls his phone out as soon as class is over, exchanging a few hasty “see you later”s with acquaintances while the app loads. Yuuri has sent him three messages again, the last one timestamped half an hour after the first two.

_Not yet, but if he wins the gold two more years in a row he will. I think it’s basically a given, there’s really no one in the Senior Division who can compete with him._

_He said in an interview that he has big plans for his short program this year. I think it will be an original composition, so he won’t have to work with someone else’s music to tell his own story._

The last one says:

_I’m sorry, I must be boring you by talking about Viktor this much. There aren’t many figure skaters I can talk to._

Phichit swears and sits down on a table in the lobby of the building to compose his answers. Yuuri had thought he was ignoring him.

 _You’re not boring!!!_ He starts. _I was just in class so I couldn’t look at my phone._

Yuuri responds not a minute later.

_That’s good. I was worried._

Phichit reads over his messages again so he can respond properly.

_I think you’re right about there being no one else to compete with him. That’s crazy. I wish I could be that good._

_Me too,_ Yuuri says, again almost instantly.

 _What did you mean about there not being a lot of figure skaters to talk to?_ Phichit asks. _Do you skate at a club with other people?_

 _Yes,_ Yuuri starts. It’s comforting to think that he also probably has the app open and is waiting for Phichit to respond, just like Phichit is for him.

_I don’t know them that well, though. And I don’t think many people want to listen to me talk about someone they’re going to compete with._

Phichit stares at this message for so long without doing anything that his phone goes dark. The first part makes him uneasy somehow, like it’s covering up some bigger, sadder fact that Yuuri doesn’t want him to know. He settles on just responding to the second.

_I’m sure that’s not true. He has lots of fans, especially in figure skating._

Phichit nibbles on his lower lip and scrolls back up through their previous conversation, then types one more message before Yuuri can respond.

_I like talking to you about it. I don’t really get to talk about skating a lot either, to be honest._

The table outside his classroom isn’t particularly comfortable, but Phichit just crosses his legs and leans his back against the wall. He’s seen people take naps on this table so he knows no one will care that his feet are up on it; besides, he’s free for at least an hour between his class and skating practice.

 _Do you not skate at a club?_ Yuuri asks.

_I do, but I don’t know many of the people there. People come and go before I get a chance to know them. And none of my friends from classes really know a lot about figure skating._

It takes a little longer for Yuuri to respond, and when he does, all he says is _That makes sense._ He must have typed a few messages and then settled on that one. Phichit thinks this must be the end of the conversation for a while and checks Twitter; he’s surprised when his phone buzzes again a minute later.

_What are you doing right now?_

Phichit’s heartbeat picks up even as he’s realizing that there’s probably no way they’ll be able to meet up right now.

 _Sitting on a table,_ he responds.

 _Really?_ With anyone else, Phichit would have pictured a slight scoff accompanying that statement. For some reason, all he can imagine in Yuuri’s tone is gentle curiosity.

_Yeah, I just finished class and I have some free time so I’m sitting around on campus. Why?_

He stands up and paces around the lobby; he’s gripping his phone a little too hard in his excitement. Hopefully, Yuuri is excited at he is, if he’s hinting towards what Phichit thinks he is.

_I was just kind of curious. Sometimes it’s hard to imagine you as a real person._

Phichit can’t type fast enough, although his shaking fingers impede him a little. _I know exactly what you mean._

He stares at his phone, willing a new message to appear on the screen. It’s only been a few days since he started talking to Yuuri, but it feels like he’s been waiting for one of them to propose meeting up forever.

His phone goes dark in his hand.

He turns it back on.

Still nothing.

It goes dark again.

Again, nothing when he turns it on.

He shoves it back in his pocket and paces around the lobby.

Finally, it buzzes and he yanks it out so fast that the pocket of his sweatpants turns inside-out.

_Sorry, my class is starting now. I’ll talk to you later!_

Phichit groans and thumps his head (lightly) against a brick wall. There’s no one else in the lobby to watch him do this, thankfully, but he wouldn’t have cared if there was. Restless from all the nervous energy he’s just accrued, he marches to the bus stop that’ll take him to the rink. Sometimes the hockey players leave early, giving him 15 blessed minutes on the ice alone before Coach and the rest of the skaters show up.

He finds he's lucky today when he peeks into the rink. Not wasting any time, he throws his skate bag into the bleachers and pulls his skates on as the last of the hockey players wobble off to the locker rooms. A few of them wave at him as he gets onto the ice, and he notices one of them watch him put his earbuds in and start his music.

Focusing more on the twist of his hips and shoulders than technicality, he glides through his routine lazily, not wanting to exert himself too hard before Coach or another figure skater is there to spot him. He ducks into a spin, and when he comes out of it he notices the hockey player by the rinkside smile and lean forward like so many audience members he’s seen before.

 _I guess I’m putting on a show now,_ Phichit thinks to himself. He still lets his mind wander as he floats through the next few parts of his routine; they’re mostly performance moves that he’s memorized a long time ago.

The hockey player catches his attention from the corner of his eye and he wonders how Yuuri would watch him skate. Would he smile and hunch forward towards the ice? Or would he watch, impassive, and then firmly but kindly critique him at the end?

His triple flip is coming up. He’d meant to make it a double, but he can feel his legs tensing up with the strength needed for a third rotation.

 _Might as well,_  he decides.

As his toe scrapes the ice, he can feel something different.

 _One, two, three--_ he feels his support leg glide on the ice for a second before the rest of his weight catches up with him and he topples, the momentum pushing him towards the edge of the rink.

“Whoa!” he hears someone say. Looking up, he finds the hockey player at the edge of the ice, nervously peering at Phichit. “Are you okay? That was a pretty nasty fall.”

Phichit dusts the ice chips from his legs and feels himself smile. “That was nothing. Really, it happens all the time. Actually,” he says and the hockey player looks kind of relieved even though his teammates are yelling for him to hurry up, “that was the best I’ve ever done that.”

That night, lying in bed after his shower with his phone in his hand, Phichit makes a decision. Yuuri is asking him how practice went, and Phichit responds as he usually does: _It was good, but Coach was pretty busy. I’m getting better at the triple flip._

 _That’s great!_ Yuuri says, and Phichit knows he means it.

_Also, I wanted to ask you something._

_What is it?_ Yuuri responds as fast as he ever does when they're talking about something he's interested in.

Phichit's hands are still shaking, but less now than they had been earlier.   
  
_Do you want to meet up soon?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know much about figure skating, but i'm doing some haphazard research on the jumps and stuff as i write. i won't get too technically detailed with the skating stuff, but if you're experienced and you notice a mistake, please let me know!


End file.
